


When the Sword Falls

by HeroMaggie



Series: Cats and Healers [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Canon-Style Violence, Fenders Appreciation 2016, Fluff, M/M, Talk of relationship, cat!anders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 10:11:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7680394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeroMaggie/pseuds/HeroMaggie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three months after Anders moves in with Fenris, Kirkwall reaches a boiling point and the Knight Commander tries to take over. Anders' desire to keep Fenris safe puts in him the middle of a conflict that could end with him losing everything or gaining the one thing he never thought he could have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the Sword Falls

**Author's Note:**

> A continuation of Splinters featuring an Anders who was never a Grey Warden, never joined with Justice, lived almost his entire life in the Gallows - and can shapeshift into a cat.

The mouse scurried along the hallway, a little grey fluff of fast-moving fur against the darker wood trim. Anders slunk after, a slow-moving furry shadow with a twitching tail. The mouse turned a corner and disappeared into a room. Anders sped up, his paws soundless on the carpet of the hallway. He reached the doorway and peered in, seeing nothing but light from a fire. He slid around the corner and flattened himself to the floor.

Ahead, the mouse stopped and stood on its hind legs. Anders stopped breathing as the mouse looked around the fireplace. Assured that he hadn’t been spotted, Anders wiggled his butt and leapt forward. The mouse gave a squeak of terror and took off across the room with Anders nearly on its tail.

Anders’ gathered himself for a lunge. His front feet had left the ground when he found himself nabbed out of the air. He gave a yowl and became silent when he realized it was Fenris holding him. In Fenris’ other hand was the mouse.

“Anders.” His name had him hanging limply in Fenris’ hold. “Were you going to actually catch and kill this mouse?”

Anders drooped a little more. He twisted and yowled again, and Fenris let him go. There was a pulse of magic. Anders rubbed at the back of his neck and shook out a foot.

“I was going to catch it and take it outside. Any wounds could have been healed.”

“Seriously?”

“I keep hoping they’ll go to the de Launcet’s house. That family is strange. And I think they beat their servants.” Anders gently took the scared mouse from Fenris. “There now. Let’s get you outside where you belong. I’ll set out some crumbs.”

Fenris made _tisking_ noises but said nothing. He knew how Anders felt about animals. Instead, he followed Anders down the stairs and to the overgrown garden. Anders gave him a smile and carefully put down the mouse. He chuckled when the mouse scurried away.

“Had a little brown one that would visit me in solitary. I think Mr. Wiggums was supposed to catch the little guy, but Mr. Wiggums was rather old by that point. He’d sit on my lap and the little mouse, Ser Squeaks, would sit near my foot.” Anders rubbed at his nose and rocked. “If we cleaned out the garden, we wouldn’t get so many.”

“I’m sorry.”

Anders turned to look at Fenris, who shook his head. “I am sorry about solitary.”

“You didn’t do it to me. Nothing to be sorry for.”

Fenris pursed his lips and stared out at the garden. “It is rather wild.”

“I could grow herbs for the clinic here. Then I wouldn’t have to go out with Hawke to find them.”

Fenris _tisked_ again. “You are getting better at casting in combat. You need to work on your staff work, however.”

Anders brushed past Fenris to head back into the house. Fenris grabbed his arm as he moved past, and Anders stopped and sighed. “I’m a healer, Fenris. A healer. I don’t like hurting things. I just want...I just…”

Fenris dropped his arm. “I know.”

Anders gave him a shrug and headed back into the house proper. He brushed his hands over his trousers and huffed at the dust flitting across the floor of the main room. He had cleaned since he moved in. Corpses had been ashed, floors had been swept, and walls had been scrubbed. It had taken several weeks to do.

Now the house felt more homey. Or at least cleaner. Anders wasn’t sure he would know what a home would feel like, though coming back to this house after working in Darktown seemed to qualify it as a home.

Anders still wasn’t sure if he felt comfortable living in Hightown. His phylactery may have been destroyed, but that didn’t mean he was safe. The past three months had been the most free he’d ever been, but he was still living down the street from the Chantry. And the Templars had become more prevalent in the City. Anders feared that it was only a matter of time before they sniffed him out and dragged him back.

A knock on the front door shook him from his thoughts. A faint jingle of metal had him panicking and the room spun as he cast without thought. He gave a scared squeak and scurred towards the sitting room and the chairs there.

He heard the shush of Fenris’ feet over the broken but clean tiles and then the front door opening. Hawke’s voice floated on the warm air followed by Isabela’s. Anders slowly crept out from under the chair and inched his way to peer out of the sitting room.

“Where’s Anders?” Hawke was asking. Her armor clinked as she shifted. Anders gave a tiny meow, but didn’t move from the doorway.

“You alright there? Oh...oh I’m sorry for scaring you.” Anders yowled and straightened. “I shoulda removed my gauntlet before knocking.”

Hawke scooped him up and nuzzled her face against his. He batted at her cheeks and settled down, well used to curling up against an armored chest. Long fingers stroked over his head and behind his ear, and he purred.

“He’s always popping into cat form.” Isabela scratched down his back.

“I don’t blame him. Templar patrols have gotten more frequent. Which is is why I’m here, Fenris. Meredith and Orsino are having some giant showdown in Lowtown. I need your help.”

“My help?” Fenris shifted.

“Aveline is with the guard. Varric is getting Merrill and they’re going to meet me there. Sebastian refused to leave the Chantry. He’s busy praying with Elthina. I need another sword with mine. I know you hate getting involved but...Fenris, you have Anders here now. You need to decide if you’ll stand with me or not.”

Anders wiggled from Hawke’s arms and hit the ground. He slinked over to Fenris and rubbed around his ankles before stepping away and shifting. He shook one foot and itched at his neck.

“You don’t have to, Fenris. I’d understand.”

“No. Hawke is right. I am keeping you safe. That means finding out what Meredith is up to.”

“Fenris…”

“I do not believe in everything Hawke does, but I cannot ignore how you shift and hide with every knock of the door. I will go, Hawke. Anders, you are to stay here. Do not leave. Understood?”

“Not a child,” Anders groused.

“Sweet thing, we’re just worried.” Isabela moved over and slung an arm over his shoulders. “You’re a gift with healing, but your combat ability needs work. Stay here.”

Anders drooped. He stared at Fenris. “You’ll be safe?”

Fenris nodded. “Let me get my sword and gauntlets and we can go.”

Anders watched him walk up the stairs and felt a sudden spurt of fear - as if something terrible was about to happen.

***

Smoke curled through the open window of the bedroom and woke him from his nap. He slunk from the bed and crept to the window. Flames were visible in the distance. Despite the thick stone buildings around him, Anders could hear screams of terror and the sounds of fighting.

Fenris was out there in that, somewhere in a city that seemed to have gone mad. Anders grabbed his staff and rushed down the stairs. He remembered that Hawke had said something about Lowtown. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and hesitated.

If he went out as he was, he would make himself a target. He wasn’t great with his combat abilities yet. Sometimes he froze or backpedaled into more combat. He glanced at the staff. It wouldn’t be a help to him. Instead, he focused. There was a burst of magic and then a cat scampering to the front sitting room and out the front window.

The city was in chaos. Mages fought Templars in the streets. Wrists were slit, Demons were called up, abominations sprouted. The Templars were attacking everybody around them. Anders saw mages and non-magical citizens fall to Templar swords. Blood washed over the streets - blood and fire and ice. Lightning crackled through air thick with fetid smoke.

Anders stuck to the corners. He dodged attacks and stayed far away from the Templars. Several times, he had to backtrack to keep from being cornered with a mage. He scurried down stairs and hid in crates and behind barrels when he could till he reached Lowtown.

The damage in Lowtown was worse. Entire blocks of buildings were on fire, corpses littered the streets, demons chased people, and magic sang. Anders was panting from the stress. His fur was on end and his claws kept unsheathing.

A hand reached for him - blackened and splitting with oozing sores, the fingers skittered over his fur.

“I know what you are.” The abomination hissed at him. “Join us, brother. Revel in their nightmare.”

Anders spat and clawed at the finger, his attack drawing putrid blood. The abomination screamed in anger and lunged for him. It was luck - and the appearance of several Templars - that allowed him to run. He could hear the abomination’s laughter as he skidded around the corner.

His run took him to the docks, and he slid to a stop. Across the water sat the Gallows. Flames were visible from above the encircling walls. There was a loud explosion that rocked the pier. Anders looked around and saw one of the small ferries, the ferryman cowering in his boat.

Something told Anders that Fenris was at the Gallows. That something terrible was happening there. He ran towards the ferry, his magic pulsing out. When he jumped into the ferry, he was back to being human.

“I need across now.”

“There ain’t no way I’mma goin over there.” The ferryman said in annoyance.

“I need to get there. Please.”

“Why? Can’t you see the magic flying thick?”

Anders twisted his fingers. “My friends are there fighting. I need to help them.”

The ferryman sighed. “Fine. But ain’t stoppin very long.”

“Thank you. Oh thank you.” Anders sat down and clung to his seat. The ferryman pushed off and began to pole them across the channel.

It loomed in his sight - the place he had been imprisoned for most of his life. A place of fear, of pain, of loneliness. It looked as nightmarish in person as it did in his dreams - fire, lightning, and magical explosions lighting up the sky and turning the entire island into the very void.

Another loud explosion rocked the island and the channel. The ferryman fought the waves and managed to get close enough to the docks for Anders to leap from the boat. Wasting no time, the ferryman turned his small craft back towards the city proper. Anders watched him go. Another explosion rocked the island. He exhaled, turned, and ran up the stairs to the Gallow’s central courtyard.

The courtyard was awash in blood and bodies. Mages and templars fought while golden statues - the ones that had decorated the walls of the Gallows - prowled through the melee. At the base of the stairs leading up into the main tower stood Knight Commander Meredith. Power wreathed her every movement as she swung what looked like a blood-red sword.

The fighting was thick and vicious. Acrid smoke billowed and turned the combatants into shadowy figures. Magic flowed as fast as it was cut-off. Anders watched as one Templar let loose a smite, his combatant - a mage - sagged. The Templar moved to swing his sword in a killing blow and jittered as a lightning bolt struck him.

Anders dodged as best he could, looking for the Fenris’ familiar white hair. He avoided a wild punch, only to be dragged down as a Templar tripped and fell on him. He landed in a warm puddle of bloody water. The Templar roared and shoved down on his back. Pain flared as his ribs creaked and one cracked. He was pulled from the ground and swung around to face the Templar.

Fear froze him. The Templar took the opportunity to backhand him and he fell. He looked up to see a sharp sword heading down towards his chest. The sword’s fall was arrested by another blade. Fenris’ growl was a welcome sound. Fenris parried another attack, flared his markings, and punched his fist into the Templar’s chest. The Templar fell.

“What are you doing here?” Fenris dragged him up.

“Looking for you.” Anders clung to him, panting as his ribs protested the movement. He let loose a healing spell and sighed in relief. His eyes widened at the blood splattered over Fenris’ armor, the cuts to his face, and the way he was limping. “You’re hurt.”

“Not now. We have to stop Meredith. Where’s your staff?”

Anders stared at Fenris. “I didn’t bring it.”

The words spit from Fenris were lost in the sounds of battle. Fenris grabbed Anders and pulled him to the side as two mages fell to a statue.

“You need to leave.”

“I can’t. There’s no way to. I’m here, Fenris. I’m not leaving.”

Fenris let out a scream of frustration. “You stay with me. Do you understand?”

“Yes. Yes I do. I stay with you. I promise.” Anders nodded. “I’m sorry. I…”

“Not the time, Anders. Come. We go to deal with Meredith once and for all.”

They ran. Fenris cleared a path with his sword and markings - knocking Templars and mages alike to the side. Anders stayed behind him, so close that he was practically running on Fenris’ heels. Despite being without his staff, he cast a barrier over them as they ran.

Meredith was battling with Hawke. Cuts and bruises marred Hawke’s face and arms. Sweat dotted her brow. Anders stopped at the base of the stairs and ignored Fenris’ command to keep going. Instead, he summoned a barrier and then healing magic, directing it at Hawke. He stood and continued to cast, keeping an eye on her health, on her energy, and on her movement.

Fenris gave him a quick nod and a smile - proud and full of approval - before racing to join Hawke. His sword clashed with Meredith’s and his brand’s flashed as he threw her back. She screamed, a wordless sound of anger, as she stood.

Her sword was lifted high above her head and then plunged into the ground at her feet. Power flared, and Fenris howled as it hit him. He flew back, hit his head on the stairs, and was still.

Hawke had retreated to stand next to Anders. The power grew, pressing against Anders like a wall of malevolent rage. It swelled - filling the courtyard - and then suddenly was sucked inward. The sword gave one crystalline chime and shattered. Red shards swirled around Meredith and ate into her skin, spread, covered her, and left her a smoking ruin.

Silence fell. Weapons dropped from Templars and mages alike. Knight Captain Cullen stepped forward, his eyes on Meredith.

“What…”

“She’s dead. Her hubris killed her.” Hawke turned to him, her voice a cold slap in the silence. “And nearly brought down the City. Do you yield?”

Anders swallowed and stepped back when he saw the Knight Captain’s gaze fall on him. Hawke stepped in front of him and swung her blade to point at Cullen.

“I asked. Do you yield?”

Cullen glanced at Anders again, at Hawke, and then at Meredith. His sword slid from his hands and fell to the stairs.

“I yield. And so do the Templars.”

***

“Where…” Fenris struggled to sit up, and Anders gently pushed him back down on lie on the bed.

“You’re home. You were knocked down some stairs and hit your head hard. You’ve been out for a few hours now.” Anders reached forward to fluff the pillows behind Fenris and fuss with the blanket. “I didn’t want to heal you with magic and upset you, so I had to settle for poultices and patience.”

“Head hurts.”

Anders went to stand and found himself held in place by Fenris’ hand around his wrist. Anders stared down at the hand and then moved his gaze to Fenris’ face.

“You may use magic to heal me.”

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Fenris huffed. “Heal me. My head is killing me.”

Fenris’ skin was smooth and silky. He pressed lightly with the tips of his fingers and trailed a line of healing magic across Fenris’ forehead and then back into his soft hair. Anders worked his fingers through the slightly tangled strands and trickled healing magic into Fenris - a gradual release of pressure and pain that made Fenris’ eyes flutter and his entire body relax.

Fenris raised one hand and cupped Anders’ cheek. “Why were you at the Gallows?”

“Because I knew that’s where you’d be.”

“It was dangerous for you to be there, Anders. You are no fighter. You got injured just running to find me.”

“I know. I shouldn’t have...it’s ridiculous. It’s not like...we’re close friends, right?”

Fenris slid his hand further back and up into Anders’ hair. A light tug and Anders allowed himself to be pulled down and into a sweet kiss. Anders exhaled and pressed into the sweetness.

Relief spread through him. He gave a groan and lay down next to Fenris. He had to pull away from the kiss to wiggle onto his side, but then he was back to kissing Fenris. Fenris’ fingers pinching his chin had Anders opening his mouth and then gasping at the tingle of arousal that flooded through him at the simple touch of Fenris’ tongue. He pressed closer, melting into the kiss with a whisper of a whimper.

When they pulled apart, Anders’ was reeling. Fenris tucked him next to him in bed. “You are ridiculous,” he said.

“I’m ridiculous?” Anders grinned at the teasing.

“You live in my home. You sleep in my bed. As a cat, grant it, but still. You are there with me all night.” Fenris stroked a hand over Anders’ hair.

“So we’re close friends?”

Fenris tisked. “I do not kiss my friends, Anders close or no.”

Anders grew silent. The implications of Fenris’ statement were a lot to take in. More than he had thought would happen, to be honest. It scared him, the idea that there could be more. More had never been an option before. Not like this. Never like this.

“Anders?”

Anders propped his chin on Fenris’ chest. “In the Circle, relationships outside of mentors and friends were frowned upon. No lovers, no family...just fellow mages locked away with you. Even close friendships were dangerous.”

“Why?”

“Having somebody important to you made you weak. It made you vulnerable to the Templars. If there was a way for them to control you more…” Anders closed his eyes. “I’m sure you’d be surprised to know that I don’t follow rules well.”

Fenris snorted, though the sound was more of amusement. “You showing up in my home as a cat proves that point.”

“I fell in love with another mage. Karl Thekla. He was a couple years older than me.” Anders rubbed his chin over Fenris’ breastbone. “He...calmed me. I didn’t try to escape as much. I studied more, stayed out of trouble more.”

“What happened?”

“Tranquility. Meredith grew peeved with me. I was too valuable to simply kill or give the brand. But Karl...Karl was no Spirit Healer. He was an excellent force mage, well-behaved, well-liked. She...she…” Anders pressed his face tightly against Fenris.

“I saw him afterwards. Briefly. He was put to work selling trinkets in the courtyard. After that, I started planning my last escape. I guess Meredith figured my Spirit Healing wasn’t good enough to keep me from the brand after all. Maybe it was all an excuse to show that I needed to be made Tranquil.”

Fenris’ hand ghosted over his hair. Anders nuzzled closer and let out a sigh.

“Was it long ago?”

“Almost a year now.”

“Is this too soon?”

“What?”

Fenris huffed. “Are you being deliberately difficult?”

“No. I just...I don’t want to assume. I don’t want…” Anders sat up and sighed. “I’ve never had this...a relationship...if that’s what you’re wanting. I shared my body, yes. But never my heart...except…”

“With Karl.” Fenris finished. “I am not at the whim of a mad woman. There is no brand that would come between what we could have.”

Anders’ smile was tentative and shy. “So…”

“Do you need me to come out and say it?”

“It would help. Blighted elf.”

Fenris carefully sat up and cupped Anders’ cheek. “Be with me.”

“Yes.” The word was breathed out. “Oh yes.”

***

“And then the nobles voted me into the role of Viscount. I’m not sure if I want to punch them all or punch Bran.” Hawke was sitting in the sitting room looking haggard. Anders made a considering noise, and she shook her head. “So now there’s going to be a coronation immediately.”

“And the Gallows?” Anders picked at the pants fabric covering his knee.

“Bethany said that Orsino has been haranguing Knight Captain Cullen night and day over everything. They’re still waiting to hear from Val Royeaux but...Cullen might make Knight Commander.”

Anders snorted. “He’s a tit.”

Hawke laughed and tilted her head back against the seat. “Did you know that Ferelden has loosened the Chantry’s grip on their Circle of Magi? Apparently the King has seen fit to allow more freedom to the mages. Not total freedom, but it’s a step in the right direction. I thought I’d contact him to see what we could do to mimic it here in Kirkwall.”

She held up her hand when Anders leaned forward. “I do have the other City-States to deal with, and there’s no guarantees...but…” She laughed when Anders pulled her out of the chair and hugged her.

“Hawke, why are you being hugged by Anders?” Fenris stood in the doorway looking peevish.

“She’s going to try to get mages more freedoms. That’s...that’s…”

Fenris sighed. “Understandable. How is Bethany?”

“Safe. Fine. Working to keep Orsino from completely murdering Knight-Captain Cullen. It’s a tense situation. Meredith’s actions left the Order tarnished. A mad woman in power over a building full of children and elderly? People who have family here in Kirkwall? There is a lot of outrage over it. But fear as well. All remember the abominations running through the streets.”

Anders released Hawke and sat back down. He grinned up at her. “Still...any freedom is better than no freedom.”

“Which reminds me. If I’m being made Viscount, them I’m officially turning this house over to you. Please fix it. I don’t want to deal with the nobles over it.” Hawke glared Fenris, who gave a terse nod. “Right. Well then. I’d best go. I’m supposed to meet with Aveline. Maker only knows how that will go.”

Anders watched as she stopped by Fenris to squeeze his shoulder. Then she was gone, and Anders found himself being examined, Fenris’ face blank. It made him squirm, and the uncertainty had his stomach feeling pinched.

Fenris stepped into the room, hesitated, and then strode across the floor to pull Anders up into a kiss. It left him breathless, the sudden spurt of desire and affection washing away the sour stomach and replacing it with butterflies.

“You will be safe now.” Fenris whispered against Anders’ lips.

“Yes. I suppose I will, what with being friends with a Viscount.”

Fenris stroked Anders’ cheek. “Safe enough to move your clinic to Lowtown. To get a small home. To be independent.”

Anders pulled Fenris down to the couch so that he could lean against his side. Fenris wrapped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed him.

“Safe, but not that safe. Besides, I thought we were...together...or has that changed?”

“No. I wanted there to be no doubts.”

“None.” Anders sighed the word.

“I suppose it’s time we weeded the garden and made the outside look presentable.”

Anders snorted and cuddled closer. “Maybe put in a cat door.”

“A perfect idea.” Fenris held him close and nuzzled against his hair. “Wouldn’t want anything to happen to my cat. Now that there’s no Templars coming for him, he’s free to wander where he wills.”

“He’ll always come home,” Anders said. “I promise.”


End file.
